


Sam Wilson & My Brother the Matchmaker

by Skellyagogo



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Christmas Fluff, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Female reader insert, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21678499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skellyagogo/pseuds/Skellyagogo
Kudos: 3





	Sam Wilson & My Brother the Matchmaker

  


  
I couldn’t wait to get outside and alone with my thoughts. The patio door slid open with barely a sound, the wind kissed my face with an icy-cold blast. I tugged the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and wrapped my arms around my chest. I’d already come down to the living room prepared and barefoot. The breath I’d been holding exhaled in the coldness forming a warm misty cloud that floated into the sky. One foot out, I shivered from the sudden chill of the snow, but it had to be done. I took a few barefoot steps out onto the snow-covered patio and the tradition began.

It was soft and fluffy at first, the warmth of my feet soon melted the snow down to the concrete of the patio. I curled and cracked my toes feeling the frosty slush between them. A piercing cool shiver snuck up my spine and made me smile. Memories of Christmas’s long gone, this silly competition with my brother always in full swing whenever mom and dad were out of sight. They would have tanned our hides and grounded us if they ever caught us acting so foolish as kids.

My brother had been gone for a few years now, but I still missed him especially on snowy days, and specifically this day. Christmas Eve was the day for this barefoot competition of ours, I still did it every year even though he was gone. Sometimes I could hear his voice in certain songs or see his smile in random people on the streets. I still had the last voicemail he’d left me, I listened to it more than I cared to admit while wallowing in misery at his absence. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just him being excited over a visit that never got to happen because of his untimely death. He’d been a little wound up for me to finally meet his co-pilot after months of us writing to each other. He talked of him a lot during our conversations. He’d become convinced that his two favorite people in the world were perfect for each other and he couldn’t wait to see his matchmaker skills in action, but that never happened.

I never knew his co-pilot’s name, just an initial. No one from the Air Force would ever tell me either because they’d been apart of some classified program that technically didn’t exist. I couldn’t even find that information out working for SHIELD. I worked my way through the ranks and couldn’t wait to tell him where I ended up, but again, it was a conversation that would never be. My mind wandered through various thoughts, jumping from one to another.

I questioned why I didn’t keep writing to him, my brother’s co-pilot. I wondered if he’d ever broken my brother’s rule and looked me up online. Was he still in the service or did he leave? Was he really as thoughtful and sweet as he was in his letters? My brother always described him as hilarious and sometimes deadpan in his humor. Occasionally cocky to the point you wanted to smack him, but he was the best man he ever had the privilege to serve with. Said that even on the worst day, he’d find some way to lighten the mood and make everyone laugh. He read some of the same books I did, some of the music tastes were the same but he’d widened my style a little with his suggestions into older music. I never would have watched a fraction of the movies I did, if it hadn’t been for him gushing over his favorites.

We wrote about childhoods and growing up in our vastly different households, school experiences, good times and bad. Random thoughts and terrible jokes better delivered in person than via written word. I’d rambled about my work the little I could tell him, I was still new in SHIELD, right around the announcement of Iron Man, but I was a fresh face with so much to prove. I grumbled and griped about my training regimen and he’d list off alternatives to workouts and various stretches that would help ease the aches and pains in my muscles. Rattled off homemade remedies and foods to eat before and after for prevention. 

Our letters had become like tiny therapy sessions in a way, venting and letting out what was bothering us. We found it freeing in a way, because of the anonymity of it. We could tell what kind of day the other had just by the way they wrote on the envelope. There was never any sugarcoating anything between us. He griped about my brother and the ‘idiots’ in charge when missions were rough. Praised my brother when missions were stellar, but mostly he wrote about how lonely he was. How everyone else around him had someone, but he only had the mystery sister of his co-pilot.

He never meant anything rude by it as he stated over and over, he just felt pathetic. Like there was something wrong with him that he’d never found anyone in person back in the States. He was convinced that he was just the kind of guy that seemed better online or in writing than in person. That letter still makes me tear up thinking about it. He poured his heart out in that one wondering what was so wrong with him and all I wanted to do was hop on a plane so I could pull him into a bone-crushingly tight hug. He was perfectly imperfect to me and I only knew him through words on paper.

He complained of cold nights in the desert in one letter as if to break up the talk of our mutually shared loneliness. I’d taken it upon myself to make him a scarf. It wasn’t much just a simple navy blue scarf a little longer than usual to wrap around and keep him warm. I spent an obscene amount of time trying to find the softest non-itchy wool possible. I spent days on it and mailed it out overnight when I’d finished. A few days had passed before I’d gotten a random call from my brother passing along a message.

_“He wants you to know that you didn’t have to do that, but he loves it. I knew you were a talented little Twerp but that was kinda sweet, I want one now. He’s taunting the other guys with it right now in fact.” My brother was laughing watching the chaos behind him. I could hear a muffled voice going on and on about his girl being the best._

_“Come on Jerk, can’t I finally hear his real voice?” I pleaded with my best little sister voice I could muster up. We’d already been writing to each other for six months at that point, almost on a daily basis if being honest._

_“Not yet,” he laughed. “Besides how am I gonna be sure he really likes YOU and not that gorgeous face of yours? He’s not that bad looking himself, maybe you’ll go all girly and dumb just seeing what he really looks like. I even bet you’d drool.” His deep snickering laugh filled my ear through the receiver._

_“You’re super weird, you know that right? Tell him… tell him I’ll send him something special for his birthday.”_

_“Mhm, but no more goodies,” my brother’s laughter echoed through the phone again. I could hear someone calling him names in the background. “He got reprimanded for gaining a few pounds, so no more goodies.”_

_“No, not cookies or anything this go, just something I’ve been working on in my off time.” I was proud of how it was turning out so far, it’d been since high school since I did anything like that._

_“Ooh a mystery, but I swear it better be PG, these guys are animals, Twerp. NO PICTURES!” The sudden brotherly tone made me laugh. Again the muffled voice in the background I couldn’t hear, but whatever it was annoyed, my brother._

_“Hey! That’s my sister you’re talking about! Don’t go calling her your Future Wife just yet jackass.” My brother shouted before ending the call._

I stood on the patio, arms wrapped tighter around my chest staring down at my feet. My brother and I used to do this little tradition to see who was the toughest, who was fit to save the world if that day came. We were silly kids if he only knew I’d grow up to work with superheroes and the like. I wonder what we would have said as kids if we’d known I really would have grown up to save the world, more than once too.

“I win big bro,” I gloated sadly and grinned up at the sky.

Before I could turn myself around and go back inside of my own accord, strong arms were engulfed around me and pulling me inside. A warmth I’d recognized anywhere, Sam. His cologne gave him away, musky and woodsy. Reminded me of hikes in the bluffs and hills my brother and I used to take in high school. Blazing fire, toasted and roasted marshmallows, and pines as far as the eye could see.

“Put me down!” I growled squirming to get out of the grip, okay maybe I didn’t put up as much of a fight because I didn’t mind the current situation so much. Sam lightly tossed me onto the armchair in front of the fire glowering down at me.

“What in the hell is wrong with you Y/n?! It’s freezing and you’re… you’re out there barefoot?!” He appeared so upset and unlike his usual flirty smiling self, not even a hint of a smirk, just wild disappointment filled his eyes.

“It’s not a big deal. I was born and raised in a place nicknamed the Frozen Tundra featherhead! They grill outside in five feet of snow, wear flip flops in below-freezing weather. Hell people go out in snowstorms in gym shorts and t-shirts, it’s not a big deal.” I didn’t want to admit to him but now that my feet were near the fire I could feel the burning sensation from the icy coldness stinging in my skin.

“You are… oh my god you’re annoying, almost as bad as Barnes,” he huffed stomping out of the room. I never understood why he cared so damned much. Not like he acted like this when Clint got hypothermia a few weeks ago. Sam just laughed at him and called him an idiot.

I rolled my eyes putting my feet up on the ottoman in front of me zoning out watching the flames in the fireplace. Why on earth was he so worked up about it? I mean really, so he flirts with me all the time, that doesn’t give him the right to tell me what I can and can’t do. Why’d he have to be so infuriatingly gorgeous? I shouldn’t even find him attractive, not after… stop thinking about it Y/n. Stop thinking about the mysterious ’S’.

I could hear Sam’s heavy steps storming back into the room. He managed to make even his footsteps echo his disappointment. A blanket draped over my lap and torso. He lifted my feet up off the ottoman and sat down on it resting them in his lap. Sam wrapped a soft fuzzy towel around them massaging his hands up and down warming them up.

“What in the hell possessed you to stand outside in below-freezing temperatures… barefoot? Getting sick ain’t gonna get you outta going on the next mission, you know that right?” His tone still conveyed annoyance but the twinkle in his eyes and the tiny smile threatening to streak across his lips betrayed him now that he sat in front of me.

Sam couldn’t help but smile near me all the time according to Natasha. Nat was convinced I could even steal his wings and use them and he wouldn’t give a shit. She figured he’d just smile and laugh as he watched me soaring in the sky and give me pointers on how to do tricks. There were a few occasions I was close to testing that theory of hers too.

My head slumped on the back of the chair letting out a deep breath. He used to be a grief counselor at the VA. There was no hiding anything from him, there was no point in lying either. I’d always made myself busy at this time of year to keep from missing my brother too much. If I was so busy that I exhausted myself then I couldn’t cry over what I didn’t have anymore. No more competitions, no more ridiculously silly letters or phone calls going on about his co-pilot. No more hearing how proud of me he was, never getting to hear him say 'I love you Twerp’ again. 

The tear slid down my cheek before I could wipe it away. More swelled up in my eyes in an act of defiance ready to unmask all I wanted to hide. Sam’s hands stopped moving, I could feel that gaze. The 'I understand what you’re going through’ look. He knew a little of my loss, that my brother had died in action overseas, but other than that I kept most things to myself. I didn’t want to burden anyone else in my sadness. Sometimes that’s all I felt I was full of, an overabundance of sadness and misery. Our parents had died in a car accident while he was in basic training and I was away at college. I was the only one left of my family, there wasn’t much to be happy about.

“I just miss him,” I didn’t have it in me today of all days to keep it to myself anymore. My lips pursed in a frown as I glanced at Sam. No matter how much I wanted to bite my tongue, a simple look from Sam made me want to open my mouth and spill my entire life story over a beer and some Al Green playing in the background.

“Your brother?” For as irritating as Sam could be sometimes I found his voice in these situations quite soothing. That made the urge to tell him everything harder.

“Yeah. We were competitive growing up only being two years apart in age, he had the Braun and I got the brains in the family. I don’t remember when it started exactly but every Christmas Eve we’d go barefoot outside in the backyard and see who could stay put in the snow the longest.” A tiny smile clung to my mouth remembering his smiling face each time we did that because he was so sure he’d win. That he’d always be the victor.

“Why? I mean why would you do that?” Sam tossed a friendly side smile my way. He let the towel drop on the floor, his hands massaging the soles of my feet to circulate the blood flow. I was kind of glad I let Wanda paint my toenails last night. 

“Why not?” A light laugh filled the room as my smile widened. “We were kids, stupid kids, but still. He was convinced that he was the strongest one, that he had to be the strong one. Guess being strong didn’t help him in the end though.” My smile had faded, I felt empty again in the quickness of a single breath.

“You know, I’m not pushing the issue, but if you ever want…” There was a softness to his voice, something inviting.

“I know Sam, you’re there to talk.” I rolled my eyes and tugged the blanket around my shoulders. I didn’t want to sound pissy or annoyed, I was just … I was just tired of being alone.

“Am I really that hard for you to talk to?” If it wasn’t for that little side smile he always gave me, I might say he was hurt by my words. “I get what you’re feeling, I really do. I miss my wingman around this time of year too. He lived for the holidays and the goody boxes his sister would send. She made the best-damned cookies I’ve ever tasted. One year she even managed to send a whole cake without it getting smashed in the mail. Everyone was sucking up to him to get a slice.”

I didn’t say anything for a few minutes just stared at the fire. I could feel his eyes on me, his fingers digging in deep as he worked feeling back into my arches. Silence filled the room except for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. Most everyone else in the Compound had either left or were hidden away in their rooms. The only ones still here that I knew of were Sam, Steve, myself and Bucky. Nat had gone with Bruce to some lecture he was giving in Denver. Clint and the Twins were off on a mission with Coulson and his bunch. Tony had taken Pepper on some European holiday. Thor was galavanting in Asgard, not sure he even knew what Christmas was, to be honest, he loved the snow though.

“It’s just,” Sam jumped slightly at the loud sudden sound after the prolonged silence. “It’s just that you’re always trying to flirt with me and you’re kinda sweet in a cocky sort of way, why would I let you in on my vulnerable side? Isn’t that a turn off for most guys? And what if I did like you, but then all you could think about was my depressive ramblings missing my brother and my pathetic sad little holiday mope fest?”

“Do you honestly think I’d take advantage of you?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. He just had to look cute doing that too. “Please, I’ve seen what you look like in the morning and I still flirt with you. Why would listening to you talk about your brother change anything? All I want to do is help you, I swear. You gotta stop being everybody else’s shoulder to cry on and let someone be there for you, Y/n.” Even trying to speak seriously there was a hint of humor in his voice. I could never understand how he did that.

“What I look like in the morning? What the hell does that mean?” I sat up in the chair glaring at him. He closed his eyes and laughed.

“Y/n, you look like a zombie troll with the voice of a banshee if anyone talks to you before you have your coffee.” His whole body shook in laughter.

“A zombie… troll??” I arched an eye a tad pissed, but I knew what he was doing. He was trying to distract me and make me feel better, damn him because it was working.

“Oh yeah, you amble down the hallway, sometimes it’s a shuffle with full-on Walking Dead like groans into the kitchen,” the dimples on his cheeks in full display with his smile.

“Mhm, okay I’ll give you that, but troll?” I squinted my eyes in curiosity.

“Seriously?! Who walks out of their room without looking in a mirror Y/n? Your hair sticks up and is all over the place.” He was animated moving his hands around his head, fingers splayed outward in a makeshift imitation of my hair. "It’s like you’re holding out for 80’s Glam rock to come back in style with that hair every morning. That or we should just have Tony surgically insert a jewel on your bellybutton so you’re a full-blown real-life troll doll.“ He tried so hard to hold a straight face, but he broke and laughed watching my mouth open in shocked offense.

"Whatever you ass!” I nudged his stomach with my foot laughing.

“See, I still flirt with you regardless. I’m a natural flirt, can’t be helped,” he chuckled grinning like a fool. “But it’s a nice ass isn’t it?” He wagged his eyebrows at me flashing a toothy grin.

“I suppose,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. Why did I let him get to me like that? Was I really going to do this?

“My brother had this crazy idea. This madcap brainiac thought that his co-pilot and I would get along so well that he was trying to set us up. He said we were so similar in some way that it was uncanny.” I didn’t want to look at Sam while I talked. If I saw those damned understanding eyes I’d feel like I was unloading all my emotional baggage so I stared at the fire.

“He was trying to play matchmaker huh? He sounds like a decent guy. I mean to trust someone with his sister like that, that’s something. I don’t trust anyone with my sister.” He had a protective brotherly tone in his voice that reminded me of my own.

“Yeah, he’d been talking the both of us up about each other for a couple of months before we actually started writing to each other. He kept sending me music the guy was into, books he read, favorite movies. Gotta admit, whoever he was he had some good taste.” I laughed nuzzling under the warmth of the blanket.

“You keep saying he, didn’t you know his name?” The way his brows furrowed he thought it was kind of weird I could tell.

“No, my brother wanted to keep it a secret I guess. Afraid that in this day and age I’d run a search of him and dig up every piece of dirt or something. Maybe he thought if I knew who he really was I wouldn’t give him the time of day, but I’ve never been that shallow, just picky. Not about looks, but heart, you know.” My light laughter made Sam grin. “He wanted kind of an old fashioned 'get to know you instead of what you look like’ kind of thing I guess if that makes any sense. I only ever knew the initial of his first name, like he knew mine. The letters were sent through my brother’s name. I know it’s weird but he was being a protective older brother. No one was ever good enough for me in his eyes and I was all he had left.”

“No, I totally get that. I knew a buddy once, that had written this girl as a part of a school project in elementary school. Supposed to learn about other cultures and places around the world kind of thing. Anyway, they kept writing even after the project was over. They wrote through high school and college. Finally, he flew to Wales and met her. He knew the second he finally saw her in person that she was the one. They got married shortly after that. Now if that wasn’t some deep love right there.” Sam sounded sad, a little jealous as he spoke.

“We did that for a while, wrote each other but we didn’t mention any specifics, nothing like that. My brother had this notion that falling in love with each other through words was what the world was missing. You get to know people better that way, through words that is. There’s something about writing that lets you just… let everything go. All your secrets hopes and dreams just spill out onto the paper in an inky passion.” It was my turn to sound sad, maybe pathetic, but my brother was right, I did fall in love with his co-pilot.

“Why’d you stop?” Sam wasn’t usually one to be so curious, but now that he had me talking, he didn’t want me to stop.

“The last letter I’d gotten happened to come the same day the military showed up at my door to tell me my brother was dead. It seemed silly to keep trying to be happy when I didn’t have the will for it anymore. I read the letter, I-I … I didn’t know what to say.” I turned to look at Sam giving a mournful smile.

“I know this will sound a little harsh but did you ever think that maybe he needed to hear from you? They were brothers in arms Y/n, he must have been hurting just as bad as you.” Sam had a way about him with just the sound of his voice. It could make you feel a dozen things at once. I was upset, annoyed, guilty, and a little heartbroken all at once from his words alone.

“I know, I… what do you say to someone you’ve never met after something like that? What was I supposed to say, 'I’m sorry for your loss but do you still want to meet? Oh and by the way I fell in love with you.’ I thought it was selfish and no matter what our getting together and finally meeting would forever be connected with my brother’s death.” I didn’t want to cry, not in front of Sam. There was something in the way he talked to me, the way he smiled, even the way he laughed that made me think of the guy I’d never get to meet.

“You both needed someone though,” his voice drifted off, he himself was staring into the fire with a strange look in his eyes.

“He’d snuck a picture into that letter. Didn’t reveal anything following my brother’s weird rule. I still have it, it’s in a frame in my room, but I have a snapshot of it on my phone.” I dug my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket and flipped through the gallery in search of it.

I held it out and showed Sam. Someone else had taken the photo in the cargo bay of the plane they were jumping out of. I never could tell if it was early morning or early evening with the golden reddish hue of the sun in the background. You could make out their bodies shadowed by the light, the packs on their backs. Neither of their faces could be seen because of the angle but I knew the one on the left was my brother by the way he held his arms out. He did that as kids when we’d spin around in circles in the backyard swing pretending to fly.

Sam slowly reached towards my phone with a trembling hand. He kept looking at the photo with an odd expression I couldn’t place, sadness, elation, maybe both. I knew he was in the Air Force once upon a time, maybe he missed the comradery. A tiny smile I’d never witnessed formed on his lips. His eyes misting over a bit as they glanced my way. He looked as if he had a hundred different thoughts rushing through his mind but just sat there smiling softly as he handed back the phone.

“What are you listening to?” A side smirk dashed across his mouth. The question was so random and out of the blue from what we were just talking about, but his voice was smooth and low.

“Uh, Otis Redding’s White Christmas, can’t you tell?” I shook my head with a puzzled laugh.

“Yeah, but why that song? It’s been on repeat since we sat down.” His smile widened, his head tilted like he was analyzing me.

“In one of the letters he’d mentioned it was his favorite Christmas song, it kinda grew on me.” I stared at Sam oddly, why was he smiling like that?

“But you haven’t written to him in years, why are you listening to the song?” A hint of cockiness in his voice. He sat up straight still grinning with his head tilted to the side.

“Because it’s Christmas Eve and I was thinking about my brother, but I couldn’t help but think about the mystery guy either. If you want the truth, I’m always thinking about him.”

“Hmm.” He was grinning like he was about to do something stupid. He stood up and walked out of the living room without another word.

“The hell was that about?” I asked myself out-loud turning the song up louder.

********

As soon as I was out earshot, I ran. I booked it back to my room searching my desk for it. I knew it was there. Drawer after drawer I riffled through until I found it. It was the same, exactly the same. How in the hell could that be? There’s no way, it wasn’t possible. I grabbed my keys and wallet and rushed out of my room towards the Garage. I barreled into Steve and Bucky coming back from the gym.

“Whoa, slow down Sam. What’s the rush?” Steve chuckled seeing me so flustered.

“It’s Y/n,” I answered back trying to run, but Bucky grabbed my arm stopping me.

“Is she alright? Is she hurt?” His worried tone made me laugh.

“No,” I pulled away from his grip and kept jogging down the hall. “Riley and the girl I told you about!”

“Where are you going, it’s Christmas Eve?” Steve called out befuddled by all that information so quickly.

“I gotta do something!” I yelled over my shoulder racing towards the garage.

“It’s Christmas Eve stupid, nothing’s open!” Bucky barked.

********

After Sam had bolted, I took my own leave and headed to my room. Kneeling beside my bed I pulled out the hidden box of letters. I sat down on my bed and started reading them all over again. I wanted to try and feel something other than empty and alone. I looked forward to his letters every week, sometimes it seemed like I got one almost every day. Even if it was just a quick paragraph between missions, he wrote to say hi, ask how my day was, or just give me a list of music to listen to. More often than not he wrote to say that my letters were without a doubt the highlight of his day each time he got one.

I’d laid awake into the night dwelling on the past rereading the letters from my mystery man. Months of letters hidden under my bed jammed into a large shoebox. I’d forgotten how beautiful his handwriting was. The only thing I’d succeeded in doing was making myself even more miserable than I was before. Pining over the loss of someone before I’d even had the opportunity to hold him, hug him, press my lips to his before I could look in his eyes and say what I should have written. I’d opened up my very soul to a stranger. Letter after another I read again and I wished more than anything that I would have kept writing.

I pushed myself out of bed and forced myself to sit in front of my desk. I pulled out paper and a pen but stared blankly at it unsure of where to start. I put my iPod on shuffle in hopes of inspiration. Where would I start after all these years besides saying I’m sorry? Eventually, the pen took over and my random thoughts filled the page. I kept writing until couldn’t see, my eyes too puffy from crying.

I addressed the enveloped and plodded downstairs to leave it by the out-going mail table near entrance doors. At least now maybe I could feel a little less empty. The worst that could happen was he’d never reply, but there wasn’t anything to lose by trying.

********

It was late by the time I’d made it back to the Compound, really late, I hated to admit that Barnes was right. There wasn’t much that was open by the time I got into town but I still had to try. I tripped on the rug by the entrance and almost faceplanted, but I caught myself on the mail table. My eyes scanned over a lone letter. I had to do a double-take, I knew that address well. The handwriting was the same as it was before, but a little shaky. I slid it into my pocket and headed to my room.

My mind was debating with itself whether or not to read it, but it was meant for me. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Y/n was Riley’s sister, that beautiful all over the place woman with her writing, lived a floor above me. All this time, she’d been right there. Right there in front of me.

“You could have made this easier Riley if you would have just said her name, but you just had to be difficult didn’t you.” I looked out the window watching the snowfall from the sky. There was a break in the snow like Riley was laughing at me from above. I pulled the letter out and began to read.

_S-_

_Where do I start except I’m sorry? I can only hope you can forgive me after all these years if this ever finds its way to you. This may be the only time that I’ve actually hated my brother and for the fact that I don’t know your name to ensure you get this. I do however have my fingers and toes crossed that by sending it to the last address I’d gotten a letter from that it somehow gets forwarded to you._

_You have to understand, the same day your last letter came was the very same day officers showed up at my door to give me the news about Riley’s death. I didn’t know what to say to you, my whole world was just turned upside down. How could I have kept writing to his best friend? I was hurt and angry, but deep down inside I just wanted to see you. I wanted the man I’d fallen in love with through words to be there in comfort and visa Versa._

_I wanted to feel arms around each other and to hear your voice. I wanted to be miserable with you, but how could I inflict that sort of pain on another person? I couldn’t burden you with my sad little tale. I was alone and scared and for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. My brain literally shut down and refused to work. Riley had all the strength, I was just brains, I wasn’t strong enough to handle it all. How could I expect you to still want to meet knowing that his death would always be there? Hanging over us like that, a dark cloud hovering over us. Afraid to get happy because then it’d feel like I wasn’t mourning him. I threw myself into my work to hide from the pain._

_Even right now on Christmas Eve when I miss him the most, the one thing that sticks out in my mind is you. I even listened to your favorite Christmas song, the Otis Redding one. I stared at the pantry in my 'house’ at all the baking supplies with thoughts of making cookies too. The double chocolate peppermint ones you couldn’t stop talking about for five letters after the first time you had one. I know I won’t be able to sleep after writing this, maybe I’ll still make them for my own sake._

_I miss the jokes and random thoughts. I miss seeing your handwriting staring back at me in my mailbox every week. The giddy feeling I used to get even on the shittiest of days when I saw your letters. I miss the random song lists you used to send, the ones that depended on the mood you were in when you wrote the letter. I had to upgrade my iPod because of you just to fit everything on it. I still find myself adding songs every now and then because I think you would have liked them too._

_I still listen to the Troubleman soundtrack when it rains. I curl myself up in a chair close to the window so I can watch the rain as it falls. Watch the droplets as they slid down the glass. I wonder if you still do that too. I wonder a lot of things, to be honest. Did you fall in love too? Did you really mean it when you told Riley I was your 'Future Wife’? Do you hate me for not writing back? Do you despise me for not being there? Did I break your heart? Do you ever think of me as I do you?_

_I can never tell you adequately how sorry I am that I never replied, that I never wrote again. You needed me, needed to know that you weren’t alone because he was like a brother to you after all. I’m sorry, I don’t know if I could ever say that enough, but please forgive me._

_I’ve never stopped thinking about you all this time. I never stopped carrying a torch for you inside my heart, but the fact that I never found you. Well, maybe that’s the Universe’s way of punishing me for letting you down. I hope you and Riley both can forgive me, it’s more than I deserve though._

_Yours, Y/n_

I stared at those words, all those letters on the page dotted with tears. How could she hate herself like that? Why did she try to go through it all on her own? My mind was stilling reeling, it was her, after all this damned time and she’s been right there. Right in front of me, fighting side by side. Eating dinner together, running through DC together, teasing Barnes and pranking Barton. Was that why I felt drawn to her because deep down I knew? Riley was right, we were similar in so many ways but still different. She blamed herself, but I blamed myself too. I could have kept writing, could have let it all out letter after letter so she’d know she wasn’t alone, but just like her, I felt like I’d be shoving my problems on her plate.

Two peas in a pod, I could see why Riley referred to us like that. Neither of us wanted to unload on the other so we dealt with it in our own way. I had a thing for her from the first time Riley described her and here I was just as deeply in love with her as I was after reading her first letter all those years past. Riley never talked about her looks but her heart, her actions, the things she was deeply passionate about. I learned more about her in a few letters than I even knew about my own family. I finally understood why Riley wanted it to be this way. She was stunning and gorgeous, but so much more. 

_“I know you know she’s my sister, but please don’t look her up online. There is so much more to her than looks and all the douche bags she dated never saw that. They never saw the real her. Her heart and soul and her selflessness are the most incredible things about her.” Riley rambled off as we were getting ready for a mission._

_“Okay, I mean it’s weird but alright.” I knew bits and pieces about her from Riley at that point and I knew she sent the best care packages. Riley somehow even talked her into sending me my own box instead of mooching off his._

_“She’s really smart and has all these ideas to benefit mankind. I swear that girl will save the world someday. She just got some high clearance job for some Government agency. She hasn’t told me yet, I only know because they came and interviewed me for her security clearance. Can you believe that shit, my little sister out fucking ranks me in clearance? Ain’t that some shit.”_

Learning her hopes and fears and dreams without having her sit across from me in some dark restaurant on a generic date. Getting to know the real her instead of the fake side most people put on nowadays with pounds of makeup and overpriced skimpy clothes. I wasn’t the most open of guys, but with her I was. We knew more about each other than some couples learned in their entire marriages. That’s what Riley wanted I think, the both of us to find that forever half of ourselves. He saw that potential in both of us.

Riley loved her so much that he wanted to make sure that she’d be taken care of by someone he trusted if anything ever happened to him. All he wanted was for us to be happy and I finally understood it now. I set about putting her present together smiling.

*********

“Wake up Y/n, it’s Christmas!” Bucky chuckled as he pounded on my bedroom door.

“Go away! I wanna sleep,” I groaned back, hmm, maybe I did sound a bit on the shrill side like a banshee. I smiled into my pillow, I hated when Sam was right.

“Aww come on Doll, it’s been ages since I’ve celebrated. You don’t want to ruin this for me do you?” He was pulling out all the stops with that damned suave Brooklyn accent of his.

“Go away, I need sleep,” I growled shoving the pillow over my head.

“Come on Doll, I brought you coffee and Sam’s in the kitchen making breakfast.”

“FINE! Set the coffee outside the door and I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I heard him laugh at my muffled grumble.

I ambled towards the bathroom, looked in the mirror and almost screamed. Sam was right, I looked like a zombie troll. My hair was all over the place poking out and sticking up in spots. I tried the best I could to tame it with a brush, but the only option was to hop in the shower. Did that man ever get tired of being wrong?

I could smell breakfast from down the hall. The sweet aroma of buttery pancakes and savory herbaceous sausage, the salty hint of bacon. Sam was actually a fantastic cook behind all that snark and flirtatiousness. The kitchen table was set and full of food. The only thing that seemed off was the oddly giant smiles on the faces of Bucky and Steve. Sam had his back turned making something at the counter.

“What’s got you two smiling like that? And holy shit Sam are we feeding an Army?” I questioned sliding near him to grab another cup of coffee. I could see his head turn my way and the grin on his face not seeing me as a zombie troll this morning.

“Christmas has gotten into us Y/n and technically Steve and I do count as a small Army, just saying,” Bucky chuckled piling sausage, bacon, eggs, pancakes and everything else Sam had made onto a plate.

“Yup, Christmas spirit. Amazing things seem to happen on Christmas Y/n.” Steve wasn’t the greatest at being casual, there was a pink hue on his cheeks.

“Mhm, right.” I raised an eye leaning against the counter taking a sip of coffee. “And you?” I smiled suspiciously. “What’s all this for?”

“It’s Christmas Y/n, lighten up. I am on occasion nice, even to Barnes.” He chuckled handing me a plate filled with cinnamon roll waffles complete with cream cheese frosting.

I stared down at the plate in awe, it was my favorite. A weird concoction my mom made for us in her waffle maker when my brother and I were kids with those cinnamon rolls in the tubes. Long before the invention of Pinterest and people pining the idea to all their boards and sharing it via e-mail. I don’t remember telling anyone here about that. I lifted the plate closer to my face inhaling that heavenly scent. Sam watched grinning like he was waiting for something.

“Why are you looking at me like that featherhead?” I nudged his hip with mine walking to the table, I couldn’t wait to dig in. They looked gooey and sticky sweet.

“Oh no reason,” Sam smiled taking the seat next to me. He, Bucky and Steve all shared a smile.

“Oh my god,” I groaned with my mouthful, my eyes rolled in my back of my head. They were glorious, just as incredible as I remembered. “This… is …fantastic.”

“Glad you like it,” the sly little side smirk curling upon his lip.

“Did I ever tell you about these?” I mumbled shoving another forkful in my mouth, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was blissed out in memories past and for the first time in a while, I didn’t have that empty feeling weighing me down.

“A long time ago actually.” He sounded so wistful and carefree, not a hint of cockiness or the usual smart-ass humor, but like he had a sweet memory that was stuck in his head.

“Stop talking and eat, I wanna open presents damnit,” Bucky growled with a smirk.

*********

The four of us sat near the tree surrounded by boxes and bags and mounds of wrapping paper. The three of them were just like little kids tearing through everything to see what was inside. I struggled to buy gifts for people, never wanting to disappoint them. Instead, I started early in the year making what I’d given everyone. I made scarfs for everyone, it made me sound like a little old lady but the repetitive action while making them was pretty calming. Steve’s was red, white and blue with a few stars, Bucky’s was black and gold and Sam’s was charcoal grey and had a red bird on the end for Red Wing.

“You made this?” Bucky smiled tugging it around his neck rubbing the softness on his cheek.

“Yeah, something my Gran taught me when I was little. I know it’s not much, but…”

“No, no, it’s perfect,” Steve leaned over the mess of paper and boxes pulling me into a hug. “People back in our day made gifts all the time, it was the norm. My mom made Buck a hat one year, big old puffy ball on the top too.” Bucky rolled his eyes at a grinning Steve. Sam just smiled and excused himself, rambled about forgetting something in his room.

“I made one for everyone to be honest. I highly doubt Tony will like his, snobby ass.” I laughed explaining how the whole scarf was fashioned to look like his Iron Man faceplate.

Sam walked back in the room sitting on the floor directly in front of me with a thin but weighty box and a rolled-up yellowed piece of thick paper.

“I have something to give you, something to show you and something to tell you,” he handed me the box with a soft smile.

“Do I really want to see what you have to show me or hear it?” I chuckled thinking he was attempting to flirt so early in the morning. It was just a simple box in a checkered red and green pattern, my name scrawled in beautiful handwriting at the top. Familiar loopy cursive letters that spelled out my name.

“Go on, don’t be shy,” he slid the rolled-up paper behind his back and watched as I opened the box.

There was multicolored tissue paper hiding whatever it was, I pulled it back carefully to find a silver frame, but it was what was inside that made me drop it in my lap. It didn’t break or shatter, but a light bounce into my thighs. The tears prickled in my eyes as I glanced down seeing a face I hadn’t seen in years. That same tussled mess of hair he gelled down to get it to stay put, a goofy look on his face, I could even see the strut in his walk through the picture itself. My index finger ran over his face on the glass of the frame, Riley. My Riley and there next to him always on his right side like he’d joked every time we spoke on the phone, was his co-pilot, his wingman, Sam.

I was a sniffling mess, tears crept down my cheeks, but I couldn’t help myself glancing up at Sam. He just sat there in front of me smiling, the raggedy and well-worn scarf I’d made him years ago around his neck. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling, I clutched the frame to my chest. A dozen thoughts rushing around in my head and he knew it. He pulled the thick piece of paper from his back, yellowed from age and crinkled from being folded and rolled who knows how many times. It was a simple pencil drawing of a Peregrine Falcon because in one of S’s letters he’d said it was his favorite animal. That was his birthday present the year my brother died. I set the frame aside and covered my mouth in shock.

“I kept this all these years, it’s been to hell and back with me, even on the run with Steve. Riley said that you had hidden talents but when he saw you were drawing again, well, his smile told me all I needed to know.” The way he held onto that sketch was like it was his prized possession.

“Damn you, Riley,” the sob choked in my throat with a tiny smile. The flurries outside turned into a steady snowstorm.

“He never did like to make things simple did he?” Sam smirked in an act of shyness, taking my hands in his.

“No, no he didn’t.” I had to laugh, it was surreal. Steve and Bucky sat back on the couch grinning. "When… when did you figure it out?“ I could see them out of the corner of my eye getting up and walking out of the room.

"You seemed like the spitting image from all the letters, but… my luck couldn’t have been that good right?” His smile widened as he glanced at Steve and Bucky seeing their backs disappear around the corner. “Yesterday when you showed me that picture, I remembered that jump. Remembered making fun of him for the hundredth time over his arms flailing around like a little kid.”

“I’m dreaming, right? I’m still in my bed, blankets over my head sound asleep,” a little huff of disbelief fled my mouth. I chewed on the inside of my lip to keep from grinning, if I smiled then I’d wake up. That’s how dreams always worked, right?

“No, you’re not in your bed. I mean you could be if you really wanted to,” he chuckled making Steve and Bucky groan in agitation from the hallway.

“Sam!” I shouted. Laughing I pushed his shoulder. I had every intention of letting him go after that, but my fingers had a mind of their own.

They grabbed tight to his shirt, his eyes darted towards them in wonder. I sat up kneeling in front of him, knowledge of every written conversation we’d ever had a drift in my mind. Every hope, dream, deepest desire flashing in my head. Sam just sat there, the smile on his face made the dimples on his cheeks pop.

Now I understood why Riley did it this way. He knew I wouldn’t have given Sam the time of day because of his snarky humor, the constant flirtiness. I would have assumed it was all a ruse to get what he wanted, that he wasn’t really interested. I might have been friends with Sam but nothing more because he couldn’t take anything seriously. Riley’s way ensured we saw what was inside, in the depths.

“Damn it, Riley,” I whispered inches from Sam’s face. Not sure I’d ever seen Sam smile like that before, it almost seemed innocent for him.

“You gonna keep talking or are you gonna kiss me?” He sat there grinning trying to play it cool, but I could see the little nervous shake.

“Shut up Sam,” I leaned in closer, voice barely above a whisper smirking.

My lips ghosted his, I couldn’t help but smile. His palm resting on my cheek, he tilted his chin upward pressing his lips to mine. He was warmth and comfort and protection rolled into one. I closed my eyes into the kiss. Hundreds of random thoughts, dreams, and secrets flickered in front of my eyes like on an ancient movie projector. All his favorites things, good days and bad replayed in that kiss. Hundreds of letters shared between the two of us rolled up into this contact.

I could feel the rumble of contentment in his chest the longer we kissed. Felt his lips form into a smile as I straddled his lap, my hands still holding tight onto his shirt. His own hand cupped my face and delved into my hair holding me close to him. Our bodies curling into each other one second and the next Sam was tumbling backward on the carpet under the edges of the Christmas tree. Not that he cared, he just grinned up at me and lifted his head for another kiss. It wasn’t until his tongue danced across mine that I tasted the chocolate and peppermint causing me to pull away.

“You ate my cookies!!” I glared down at him incredulously, mouth slightly open in amused anger.

“You mean I ate MY cookies,” he chuckled. “Still the best damn cookies I’ve ever had.”

**********

It was as if Riley himself had been put in charge of the weather, what was supposed to be a typical winter snowfall turned into the winter storm of the Century. The Compound ended up covered in close to six feet of snow, not that any of them minded, especially Y/n and Sam. They wandered around the Compound in their usual routines without a care in the world. Steve and Bucky found them in various spots on what appeared like mini-dates. Movies in the theater room, drinks, and dancing near the bar, cooking, laughing and dancing in the kitchen. Even curled up on the couch near the fireplace reading the same book.

It was New Year’s Eve before the storm had let up and the rest of the team was able to get home. Maybe it was Riley’s way of letting them rediscover what had been there all along. Maybe he was just trying to give them a little peace before the next battle, the next war to fight. Either way, it was a week solid of just the two of them. Nat, Bruce, Clint, the Twins, Tony, even Rhodey could all feel that something was different in the Compound, something was off, but neither Steve nor Bucky would answer. They just smiled and walked away.

Tony muttered and mumbling walking around the Compound buildings until he’d found himself in the living room. The sliding glass doors slightly ajar, the low hum of a heater turned on out in the patio, soft music wafting down from overhead speakers, what sounded like Marvin Gaye. He blinked and rubbed his eyes and did a double-take thinking maybe he was still jet-lagged. There’s no way he was seeing what he thought was out there. Clint, Nat, and the others walked up behind him seeing what he did. Sam and Y/n dancing cheek to cheek in the snow with goofy little grins.

They watched as Sam pulled his head back, his finger crooked under Y/n’s chin smiling sweetly. She leaned up pressing a kiss into his lips, her arms curling around his neck. It was a deep and passionate kiss and when they pulled away for air, they just grinned at each other. Resting their temples against each other as they swayed to the music.

“I’m not going on vacation again, shit gets too damn weird when I’m not here,” Tony grumbled to himself.


End file.
